THE JOURNAL

Iconography

Coming soon.

A letter on the symbols of the ancient world — and why I believe they may carry far more power than we give them credit for.

Still being written.

The Houses

Today's universe of IP is primarily cute, cuddly, and nostalgic.

There is nothing wrong with that. Nobody loves a good nostalgia blast more than I do. But after the nostalgia fades, you are often left with something cute and cuddly staring back at you.

It's just not enough for me. I want something real. Something more grown-up.

I want to be in awe. I want mystery. I want to feel something deeper.

In many ways, cute and cuddly is the enemy of what I am trying to build with Arkaia. Not because it is bad, but because it lacks deeper meaning. So much modern IP is designed to be instantly approachable, comforting, and easy to consume. Exceptionally commercial.

Arkaia is meant to feel different.

The physical materials are the first part of that. When you hold an Arkaia Artifact, you feel the weight, permanence, and beauty of the piece. Brass, enamel, gemstones, gold, silver, and copper give the object a presence that plastic or cardboard simply cannot reproduce.

But the materials are a small part of it. The IP surrounding the object needs to feel equally meaningful. The story behind something is everything.

Pokémon cards are literally pieces of printed cardboard, yet people dedicate their lives to collecting them because of the incredible universe behind them. The characters, stories, regions, mythology, rarity, and sense of discovery give those pieces of cardboard meaning.

Arkaia also needs a universe worthy of collecting. And what better universe could we explore than human history and civilization? The more I learn about humanity's past, the more awestruck I become.

Why can't we be inspired by our ancestors?

Did you know entire intricate temple complexes were carved from a single mass of rock?

Did you know an ancient Greek scholar calculated the circumference of Earth more than 2,200 years ago using only geometry, sunlight, and the distance between two cities, and came within a remarkably small margin of the figure we use today?

Did you know ancient Chinese scribes recorded solar eclipses on oracle bones more than 3,000 years ago, and NASA scientists later used those observations to study subtle changes in Earth's rotation?

Did you know the ancient Egyptians developed sophisticated systems for tracking the stars, seasons, and celestial cycles thousands of years ago?

Human history is filled with discoveries, ideas, symbols, structures, and beliefs that feel almost impossible.

Our ancestors moved stones weighing hundreds of tons. They aligned monuments with the heavens. They created iconography that survived entire empires. They built structures intended to outlast not only themselves, but their entire civilizations.

That is the feeling I want Arkaia to capture.

I want the energy.

I want the knowledge.

I want the awe these civilizations were able to conjure through sheer force of will, and perhaps something more, dare I say, mystical.

If Arkaia can inspire even 0.1% of the wonder these magnificent civilizations inspire in me, I would consider that an incredible success.

That is why Arkaia has Houses, more specifically, Ancestral Houses.

Each Ancestral House is inspired by a real ancient civilization and draws from its history, mythology, beliefs, materials, and iconography.

Our imagery and iconography are reinterpreted through Arkaia's own modern visual language. We are not creating exact historical reproductions. Instead, every Artifact is rooted in the symbols, materials, and beliefs of the civilizations that inspired it, what they worshipped, feared, protected, and revered.

We are beginning with three Ancestral Houses: Aegis, inspired by Ancient Greece; Khepra, inspired by Ancient Egypt; and Cathay, inspired by Ancient China.

These civilizations gave us so many of the foundations we still rely on today. Philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, engineering, architecture, government, art, metallurgy, and medicine were all deeply shaped by them.

And yet, despite everything they gave us, there is still so much about them we do not know. That combination of knowledge and mystery is exactly what makes them so powerful. My hope is that we can embed every Arkaia Artifact with even the smallest sliver of that power.

A meaningful material.

A symbol chosen for a reason.

A story that inspires curiosity.

An object that feels connected to something much older and larger than itself.

While we are beginning with these three Ancestral Houses, the intention is to expand over time and draw inspiration from more of the civilizations that came before us.

The ancient world contains more stories, symbols, and civilizations than Arkaia could ever fully explore.

We have only begun to uncover them.

In my next post, I will go deeper into the iconography of the ancients, and why I believe those symbols may carry far more power than we give them credit for.

Materials

For millennia, we made the things we loved from materials that could survive us.

Stone. Marble. Bronze. Silver. Gold. Brass.

The objects that carried the greatest meaning were often made from the most enduring materials available. Monuments were carved from stone. Jewelry was shaped from precious metals. Ceremonial objects, coins, sculptures, armor and heirlooms were made to pass from one generation to the next.

They accumulated marks, scratches, and sometimes even damage, but those imperfections became part of their history. Most importantly, the objects endured.

Over the past century, and especially during the last several decades, our relationship with materials has changed.

Many of the objects we value are now made from cardboard, plastic, resin and other temporary materials. Even collectibles that sell for hundreds, thousands or sometimes millions of dollars often depend on plastic sleeves, sealed cases and controlled environments simply to protect them from time.

The collectible itself may be culturally valuable, but the material it is made from was never designed to endure for centuries.

This reflects a broader culture of disposability. Products are made quickly, consumed quickly and eventually replaced. Planned obsolescence has become so normal that we rarely stop to question it.

When I began designing Arkaia, I wanted to move in the opposite direction.

I wanted to return to the way humans made treasured objects throughout most of our history: from honest, substantial materials selected for their beauty, physical presence and ability to endure.

Arkaia Artifacts are not meant to feel like merchandise.

They are meant to feel permanent.

The Foundation

When I think about permanence, I think about foundations.

An object can only last if the material at its center is strong enough to carry everything built upon it. Before deciding what an Arkaia Artifact would look like, I first needed to decide what it would be made from.

I considered steel, iron, bronze, zinc alloys and several other metals.

Each had advantages. Steel is exceptionally strong. Bronze carries an obvious connection to antiquity. Zinc alloys can capture intricate designs efficiently. Iron has a raw and almost elemental quality.

But I ultimately settled on brass.

Why Brass?

Brass is an alloy made primarily from copper and zinc. Different proportions create different characteristics, but the brass being explored for Arkaia uses a high copper content that gives it strength, density, warmth and the ability to accept finely struck detail.

It has roots in antiquity and has long been used in decorative objects, architecture, instruments, mechanical components and works of art. It can be polished until it reflects light, allowed to develop a natural patina or plated with other metals to completely transform its appearance.

It is both ancient and industrial. Beautiful and functional.

Brass has real weight. When you place it in your hand, it immediately communicates that it is not temporary. It feels closer to a medallion, a piece of sculpture or an ancient artifact.

It might seem minor but the weight is incredibly important to me. I want to feel when I am holding an Arkaia Artifact. I do not want to create a toy, I want to create a work of art.

Plating

The brass foundation gives each Artifact its strength, but plating gives it a distinct identity. Gold, silver and copper each interact with light differently and carry different historical associations.

Gold has represented divinity, power and immortality across cultures. It appears to hold light within itself.

Silver has a colder, celestial quality. It is often associated with the moon, reflection, clarity and the night sky.

Copper feels warmer and more elemental. It connects the finished object back to the earth and to one of humanity's earliest relationships with metal.

These finishes are not simply colors applied to the surface. They are real metallic layers that change how the Artifact reflects light, how its relief becomes visible and how it feels as a physical object.

In my opinion, besides looking great, the most exciting part of plating is the process itself. Electricity is used to deposit a thin layer of gold, silver or copper onto the brass surface. I find the fact that energy and chemistry can transform the appearance of an object so incredibly cool.

The process of how everything is made deserves its own post. Of course, I plan to write one.

Gemstones

Gemstones introduce another element: focused points of light.

Humans have collected, traded and set stones into meaningful objects for thousands of years. Their appeal is difficult to reduce to a single explanation. Part of it is rarity. Part of it is color. Part of it is the strange way a small mineral can capture and return light.

But gemstones also make an object feel intentional.

A stone must be selected, positioned and secured. Its placement creates emphasis within the composition. It can become an eye, a star, a source of energy, a celestial body or a small point of contrast within a much larger design.

Arkaia uses gemstones not simply as decoration, but as part of the visual language of each Artifact.

Different editions may use different quantities, arrangements and qualities of stones. Some designs may include a single deliberate setting. Others may use multiple stones to create constellations, borders or illuminated details.

I am especially excited to dive deeper into the world of gemstones. How they form, how they are created, how they are graded and what ancient civilizations believed about them are all fascinating subjects to explore.

Enamel

Metal gives permanence. Gemstones give light. Enamel makes art.

Unlike ordinary paint or printed ink, enamel sits within recessed areas of the metal design. The raised metal lines define each section, while the enamel creates smooth fields of color between them. This technique allows the color and the sculpture to exist together.

Enamel has a long association with jewelry, ceremonial objects, decorative arts and fine metalwork. It can be vivid without feeling synthetic and detailed without sacrificing the physical character of the underlying metal.

For Arkaia, the goal is a polished, jewelry or antique like appearance rather than the flat appearance associated with inexpensive promotional pins.

One of the most important choices when working with enamel is the color scheme. The wrong colors can make a beautifully made object look like a cheap enamel pin. The right colors can make it feel like the ancient jewelry and ceremonial objects that inspired it.

The last thing I want is for Arkaia Artifacts to look like cheaply made objects. The enamel should feel like an integrated and cohesive part of the Artifact, working together with the metal, relief, plating and gemstones.

A Familiar Shape

Once I had the materials for our first edition figured out, the next question was shape. This was, to my surprise, one of the hardest decisions in the entire process.

I wanted Arkaia to feel like a work of art, but not like a traditional sculpture that requires a pedestal, a gallery or a large amount of space.

I also wanted it to feel familiar and intimate.

Something you could hold in one hand. Something substantial enough to display, but compact enough to carry in a pocket, case or bag. Larger than jewelry, but smaller than a conventional art object.

The trading card format became the natural answer.

Trading cards have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Pokémon, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Digimon and other collectible worlds showed me that a small rectangular object could carry an enormous amount of meaning. A card could represent a character, a story, a moment or an entire universe. The amount of meaning packed into such a tiny space is astonishing.

Arkaia keeps the familiar proportions of a trading card but reconstructs the format from a completely different material philosophy.

Instead of printed cardboard, the image is sculpted into metal.

Instead of ink creating the illusion of depth, the surface has physical relief.

Instead of being protected by a case, the Artifact itself becomes the object of permanence.

It is familiar in the hand, but unlike anything a traditional card collector has held before.

The format does come with a drawback.

Arkaia Artifacts are made with real brass, gold, gemstones, enamel and other jewelry like materials. Jewelry is designed to be worn and displayed. Imagine buying a beautiful ring, necklace or bracelet only to discover that it does not fit. It would immediately feel less personal and less special.

A card shaped object is easy to collect and hold, but it is not naturally designed to be worn or displayed as part of everyday life. You can easily place an Arkaia Artifact on a wall or display it as a piece of art, but I want to find more ways for people to carry and experience their Artifacts.

I already have some early ideas for solving this in both the physical world and through the Arkaia platform but more on that later.

Built to Remain

Nothing is literally indestructible.

Metal will scratch. The finishes can change. Brass may develop a patina. Every physical object records its journey through time. But that is a far cry from being disposable. A mark on metal can become part of an object's history. Patina can deepen its character. The Artifact may change, but it does not simply disappear.

That is why the materials that make up Arkaia Artifacts are so important. I want us to value our objects the way our ancestors did. I want to return to making the things we value from real, substantial materials.

A return to objects with weight.
A return to materials that matter.
A return to the belief that the things we treasure should be made with the intention that someone else might treasure them long after we are gone.

Objects made to remain.

Energy and the Ancients

A warning before we begin: this post is highly speculative and, at times, unapologetically woo-woo.

I used to think of myself as someone who saw the world in fairly clean categories. Something was either scientific or unscientific. True or false. Rational or irrational. If an idea could not be measured, tested, and clearly explained, I was inclined to dismiss it.

Over time, that has weakened.

The more I learn about consciousness, probability, ancient history, physics, and the scale of the universe, the harder it becomes for me to believe that reality is as simple as it appears. I increasingly suspect that the universe is much stranger than we understand.

That does not mean every extraordinary claim is true. Most probably are not. It does mean I am less willing to assume that our current understanding represents the boundary of what is possible.

There are strange areas of research and human experience that continue to interest me:

None of these examples proves that some invisible universal energy exists. But taken together, they leave me open to the possibility that consciousness, belief, matter, and human experience may interact in ways we do not yet understand.

What the Ancients Knew

Ancient civilizations created extraordinary things. They moved enormous stones, constructed monuments with remarkable precision, developed sophisticated metalworking traditions, and built structures that have survived for thousands of years.

Their accomplishments do not necessarily require lost supertechnology. Human ingenuity, organization, mathematics, labor, and generations of accumulated expertise can explain an enormous amount. But the accomplishments remain astonishing.

Ancient civilizations also possessed sophisticated knowledge of the sky. They tracked the movements of the sun, moon, planets, and stars. They designed calendars around celestial cycles. They aligned temples and monuments with solstices, equinoxes, constellations, and significant astronomical events.

These people were not primitive. They were observing the same universe we are observing now, but through a different intellectual and spiritual framework. To them, astronomy, architecture, religion, kingship, nature, and material culture were not separate subjects. They were connected parts of a single system.

That is where my speculation begins.

A Connection Between Matter, Symbols, and Energy

Why did ancient people dedicate immense amounts of labor and resources to constructing monuments aligned with the heavens? Why were certain metals, stones, colors, animals, geometric forms, and symbols repeatedly treated as sacred?

The conventional answer is that these things carried religious, political, and cultural meaning. I believe that answer is true. But I sometimes wonder whether it is incomplete.

I suspect that ancient people may have believed, perhaps correctly, perhaps not, that materials, symbols, orientation, proportion, ritual, and human intention could combine to produce a real effect. Not merely a symbolic effect. An actual effect. Something involving consciousness, emotion, social coordination, perception, or a form of energy that we do not currently have the language or instruments to measure.

They did not choose gold randomly. They did not place celestial symbols everywhere by accident. They did not orient monuments toward the sky without reason. Their materials and iconography were deliberate. Gold represented immortality, divine radiance, permanence, and the sun. Certain stones were associated with protection, rebirth, fertility, authority, or the heavens. Animals became embodiments of forces larger than themselves.

The standard interpretation is that these were systems of belief. My suspicion is that, to the ancients, they may also have been systems of technology. Not technology in the modern sense of computers, engines, and electronics. A different kind of technology, one built from matter, geometry, symbolism, environment, ritual, and consciousness.

I cannot prove that. I do not know whether it is true. But I think something deeper may have been taking place.

Knowledge Can Disappear

We tend to imagine history as a steady upward line. One generation discovers something, the next generation improves it, and humanity continues progressing. But history is not that orderly.

Civilizations collapse. Trade networks disappear. Libraries burn. Languages become unreadable. Specialized crafts vanish when the last practitioners die. Political and religious changes can erase entire systems of knowledge. Humanity has repeatedly forgotten how to do things it once knew how to do.

So I do not find it impossible to believe that ancient cultures understood certain relationships between materials, symbols, architecture, psychology, and the natural world that were later lost. That does not require a single global catastrophe or an advanced civilization erased overnight.

Knowledge can disappear gradually, unevenly, and repeatedly. It can be lost through war, disease, institutional collapse, religious transformation, environmental change, or simply because the chain of transmission was broken.

What This Means for Arkaia

I am not claiming that Arkaia can recreate some lost ancient technology. We are making art, we are making collectible objects, not magical devices. But I do believe that objects can carry meaning.

Materials matter. Symbols matter. Proportion matters. Craftsmanship matters. The stories attached to an object matter. The intention behind its creation matters. The way it makes someone feel when they hold it matters.

Through Arkaia, I want to bring these things together deliberately. Real metals. Gemstones. Enamel. Ancient symbols. Celestial imagery. Geometry. Lore. Rarity. Discovery. Human craftsmanship.

Perhaps that produces nothing more than a beautiful object with emotional and symbolic weight. That alone would be worthwhile. But part of me wonders whether arranging the right materials, symbols, ideas, and intentions in the right way can create something more difficult to explain. Not a supernatural force. Not proof of lost technology.

Perhaps only the faintest trace of the relationship ancient people felt between matter, meaning, humanity, and the cosmos.

One percent of one percent of one percent. A sliver.

Silicon and the Machine

There is another idea here that deserves its own post. Today, we are once again using elemental materials to reach toward something larger than ourselves.

Silicon is refined from one of the most ordinary substances on Earth: sand. Through extraordinary processes, we turn it into semiconductor chips. We arrange those chips into machines capable of processing immense amounts of information. And now those machines are beginning to produce forms of intelligence.

Ancient people used stone, metal, geometry, and observation to understand the heavens. We are using silicon, electricity, mathematics, and data to create an intelligence that may help us understand the universe, and perhaps ourselves.

I do not know whether these things are truly connected. But I cannot shake the feeling that they are.

Something Deeper

Yes, this is nebulous. Yes, it is speculative. Yes, parts of it sound woo-woo. But it is an honest description of something that has remained in the back of my mind for years.

The more I learn about the world, the less convinced I become that matter is merely matter, symbols are merely decoration, and consciousness is merely an accidental observer.

I think something larger is happening. Something deeper. And Arkaia is, in its own small way, an attempt to explore that feeling through objects made from the materials and symbols humanity has considered powerful for thousands of years.

The Dream

What is the goal of Arkaia?

Why create a new kind of collectible, one that does not fit neatly into any category and takes inspiration from nearly every collectible that came before it?

Because I cannot stop thinking about what the ultimate collectible could be.

The odds of creating something truly new are long. It would be easier to make something familiar, follow an established formula, and avoid the risk. But this idea is simply too exciting not to pursue.

Arkaia began with a question:

If I could wave a magic wand and create the perfect collectible for myself, what would it be?

It would borrow something from every world I have loved:

The permanence and weight of gold, silver, copper, coins, and bullion.

The discovery, rarity, and excitement of trading cards.

The deep lore of Warhammer.

The craftsmanship and precious materials of jewelry.

The intention and beauty of art.

The anticipation of opening a pack and not knowing what is inside.

The progression, discovery, and hidden rewards of games like The Elder Scrolls, World of Warcraft, and Pokémon TCG Pocket.

The symbols, iconography, and real strangeness of our ancient ancestors.

But I would not want to borrow those symbols simply because they look interesting. Each Artifact would offer a way to explore the civilization that created them and reconnect us with the people who came before us.

Ancient people studied the stars, mastered materials, built monuments, and created symbols that carried meaning across thousands of years. They understood certain aspects of nature, astronomy, construction, craftsmanship, and human meaning more deeply than modern culture often gives them credit for.

I do not claim to know everything they understood. That is part of what makes the ancient world so compelling. It gives us questions to explore, mysteries to discuss, and ideas worth rediscovering together.

It would be made from real materials, including brass, enamel, gemstones, gold, silver, and copper. These are the same kinds of materials humans have valued for thousands of years.

But it would not feel old.

It would take all of those influences and turn them into something modern: a collectible with weight, permanence, mystery, beauty, and a universe of its own.

Each Artifact would be more than an object. It would be an invitation to explore a civilization, understand a symbol, discover how something was made, or examine a question that may not have a simple answer.

The Artifact would bring people into Arkaia. The history, craftsmanship, mystery, and community would give them a reason to stay.

It's unbelievably ambitious.

To create a world as expansive as Pokémon.

As deep as Warhammer.

As carefully crafted as jewelry.

As thoughtful as art.

And as culturally meaningful as the greatest collectible brands.

But the dream extends beyond the collectibles themselves.

It is to build a community of curious people exploring the knowledge, symbols, materials, and mysteries of ancient civilizations and our world, together. A place that reconnects us with our past and restores some of the wonder that modern life has lost.

Something new. Something exciting. Something made to endure.

Artifacts worth keeping. Questions worth exploring. A world worth becoming part of.

That is my dream. That is Arkaia.

The Why

I've been a collector for as long as I can remember.

Pokémon cards. Yu-Gi-Oh. LEGO. Warhammer 40k, assembled and painted by hand (I hated painting, I was so bad at it!). Later, gold and silver. Then Bitcoin.

I've always loved collecting. Collecting feels like discovery, progress, and an unlock all at once. You didn't just buy something. You searched for it. You traded for it. You opened the pack. You studied the details. You built the army. You completed the set. The object meant something because of what it took to find it, build it, or understand it.

I've also been a gamer my whole life. Age of Empires, Total War, World of Warcraft, Elder Scrolls, Halo. I spent thousands of hours in virtual worlds, earning things I cared about, gear, ranks, resources, none of which I ever truly owned.

So when NFTs arrived, they hit me instantly. Finally: real ownership of digital things. I went deep. Some of the pieces I collected, including CryptoPunks, Autoglyphs, and Art Blocks, are still among the coolest things I own. Digital art was my gateway drug. It's what got me collecting physical art in the first place.

NFTs taught me more about provenance, scarcity, community, and human psychology than almost anything before or since. But for reasons I'll write about another day, the ecosystem never quite delivered on its promise. The technology required to make digital objects feel truly real still doesn't exist.

Alongside all of this, I spent years on the other side of the table, investing in consumer companies. Watching founders build products people genuinely love taught me what separates a product from an obsession: story, ritual, community, and craft.

And underneath all of this runs one of my oldest obsessions: history.

I've spent years reading about everything from recent history to the earliest civilizations. The deeper I go, the stranger it gets.

Civilizations separated by oceans and centuries reached for many of the same materials: gold, bronze, jade, and stone. They studied the sky, built around celestial cycles, and embedded meaning into their temples, monuments, tools, jewelry, and objects.

They developed sophisticated knowledge of astronomy, construction, mathematics, metallurgy, and the natural world, often using tools and methods we still do not fully understand.

When I was younger, I believed in zero "woo woo." No magic. No mysticism. My view was simple: What does the science tell us? What do the experts say?

I've since come around.

Not because I suddenly believe every strange theory, but because the world isn't black and white. There is still so much we don't understand about our past, our present, and what it means to be human.

I don't claim to know exactly what the ancients knew. But I'm convinced they understood certain things more deeply than modern culture gives them credit for. Materials, symbols, monuments, and artifacts were how they carried that knowledge across time.

I also think many of us have lost our connection to something deeper.

We're less connected to religion, ritual, history, and community than generations before us. We have more information than anyone in history, yet often feel disconnected from the people who came before us and from one another.

I don't have the answers. But I want to build a place for people who are curious enough to explore the questions together.

What did ancient civilizations understand about the stars? Why did the same symbols and materials appear across distant cultures? How did they construct things that still stand thousands of years later? What ideas did they believe were important enough to preserve for eternity?

Arkaia can be a way to explore those questions through craftsmanship, curiosity, and a shared sense of wonder. It is not a religion or a source of absolute truth, but a community built around exploring our past together.

At some point, all of these threads started pulling toward a single question:

What if I could combine everything?

Everything I've collected. Every game I've played. Every civilization I've studied.

What would the collectible I've been chasing my whole life actually look like?

I kept arriving at the same answer.

It would be made from real materials of lasting value, including precious metals, gemstones, enamel, and more. The same kinds of materials ancient civilizations trusted to carry meaning across thousands of years.

It would come in a form factor I've loved since childhood: the trading card. A shape and size my hands already know.

It would live alongside a digital experience that provides a way to authenticate it, trace its history, connect with other collectors, and unlock the world behind it over time.

And every Artifact would be a doorway into something larger: a civilization, a symbol, an unanswered question, or an idea worth rediscovering.

The weight of gold.
The ritual of the pack.
The world of a game.
The mystery of the ancient past.

That became Arkaia.

Not another disposable object. Not another plastic thing.

Something heavier. Something stranger. Something that feels both ancient and new.

The Artifact may be what brings people in. But I hope the ideas, the mysteries, and the community give them a reason to stay.

I don't think the world needs more collectibles.

I think it needs objects worth keeping, questions worth exploring, and places where curious people can explore them together.

That's why I'm building Arkaia.